Choices
by Nyra II
Summary: AU: What will the wizards do when their 11 year old 'savior' shows up at Hogwarts Dark and intelligent instead of kind and caring? For that matter, what will Harry do? Nothing good. Slytherin Harry, Dark Ravenclaw Hermione, Dark Ron.
1. Chapter 1

Choices

Chapter One

By: Nyra II

_A/N: This will be Dark! Harry, 'cause I don't like Light, Goody-Goody Harry at all. The idea for this story was given to me by Queen of Halloween. Thanks!_

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11-year-old Harry James Potter sat alone in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. He was reading one of the schoolbooks he had bought a month ago when Hagrid had taken him to Diagon Alley, after he had explained the truth about how Harry's parents James and Lily had been killed.

Harry had been surprised, to say the least, when he found out that the Wizarding World was real, but for some odd reason it had not been a very big shock.

While they were in Diagon Alley, Harry had gotten all of the things required for First-Year Hogwarts students, but he had gotten several extra books, in order to know more about the strange new world of magic. During his last month with the Dursley's, he had read each of his books at least eight times, and he wished that he had gotten more to read, do to the fact that it was getting rather boring, reading the same books over and over.

Harry looked up from the book as the train started moving, but then he simply continued reading. The reason he was alone in the compartment was because he really didn't want to speak to anyone, much less some idiot who kept babbling nonsense like one of the fellow First Years he had met at an ice-cream parlor in Diagon Alley.

He didn't _want_ to go to Hogwarts at all. Sure, he wasn't happy at the Dursley's, and the idea of learning magic was interesting, but he didn't want to go to this school.

Something told him that the Headmaster, Doubledoor, or whatever his name was, couldn't be trusted. As a general rule, he didn't trust adults at all. In his experience, they only hurt you in the end, intentionally or not. Mostly intentionally, though.

He had a strange feeling that anyone in this… Wizarding world was dangerous, and that making loyal and decent friends wouldn't be easy.

He'd never had many friends, they really didn't tend to stick around long after Dudley and his gang started teasing them, and during the last few years he had realized that he didn't _care_ if he had friends or not. Sometimes he even thought that he was better off without the annoyance.

While he had been in Diagon Alley, he had somehow managed to convince Hagrid to let him go into Muggle London and get some new clothes that would fit properly, rather than the overly large, torn remains of Dudley's old clothes that his relatives ad given him.

Most of the new clothes he had gotten were black, as it had always been his favorite color, and Hagrid had seemed surprised when he noticed it. Harry really didn't care though. Hagrid was nice enough, but Harry didn't really want to be friends with anyone in this new Magical World.

That slightly confusing line of thought was interrupted when the door of the compartment opened, and a red-headed boy who appeared to be a First Year stepped into the compartment.

"Can I sit here, everywhere else is full?" he asked.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, sure."

The redhead sat down and held out his hand.

"I'm Ron, Ron Weasley."

Harry shook his hand and simply replied with "Harry."

"Do you play Quidditch?" asked Ron.

"No." said Harry shortly, slightly annoyed.

"Oh." said Ron.

Harry went back to reading his book, and Ron studied him in confusion.

Harry obviously came from a Muggle family, do to the black Muggle clothes he was wearing. His jet-black hair went down to his chin, and it had a slight curliness to it, though it was hardly noticeable. His dark green eyes were not covered by glasses, as Harry had not needed them since sometime around his tenth birthday, and those emerald eyes shone with knowledge. Knowledge from books, and the kind of knowledge that only comes from experiencing things.

Harry looked up when he noticed Ron was looking at him.

"What?" he asked, annoyed.

"Are you from a Muggle family?" Ron asked.

"No. I lived with my aunt and uncle, they're Muggles, but my parents both went to Hogwarts, they died when I was almost two years old." said Harry. He didn't want to discuss his past with some stranger, and ound it extremely irritating that Weasley had asked.

Ron nodded.

Harry rolled his eyes. Obviously, this... _Weasley_… wasn't going to shut up any time soon.

"Do _you_ play Quidditch?" he asked, with a sigh, resigned to his fate.

"Of course! It's the best game in the world." and with that, Ron started explaining everything about Quidditch to Harry, who nodded politely as he listened to Ron rant about things that he already knew, do to the Quidditch book he had bought in Diagon Alley.

Thankfully, Ron was soon interrupted when a bushy-haired girl opened the compartment door.

"Have either of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one." she asked, a bossy tone in her voice.

Ron shook his head.

"No." said Harry.

"Oh well…I'm Hermione, by the way, Hermione Granger." she stuck out her hand and Harry shook it.

"What's that you're reading?" Hermione asked, looking at the book in Harry's hand.

"A First-Year Transfiguration book. This is about the ninth time I've read it." he replied.

"_Really?_ I've memorized all of our books for the year. What did you think of Defense against the Dark Arts?"

"It was very interesting." said Harry, then they both looked at Ron for his opinion, but he was looking a bit shocked.

"We were supposed to read the books _before_ we went to Hogwarts?" he asked, appearing ready to faint.

"No. But I thought it would be best to be prepared." said Hermione.

Harry nodded in agreement.

The three sat in the compartment talking for quite a while, though it was mostly Harry and Hermione talking and Ron looking lost, as he coudn't understand hardly a thing they talked about, before Hermione looked at her watch and jumped up.

"We'll be at Hogwarts soon, we should change into our school robes." she said.

Hermione left the compartment to change in the bathroom, and Harry and Ron quickly changed into their school uniforms.

After they were done and had sat down again, there was a knock on the compartment door, and it opened a moment later, revealing the pale face of the blond boy Harry had met in Diagon Alley.

"Hello, Potter." he said.

"Hi, Malfoy." was the reply. The two had met in Madame Malkins, and they had talked for a while afterwards too. They weren't exactly friends, but they weren't enemies either.

Draco then noticed Ron. He sneered. "Hello _Weasel."_

But Ron didn't seem to notice, he was staring at Harry with an odd look in his eyes.

"You're _Harry Potter!"_ he exclaimed.

"Yes, I am." said Harry, annoyed again by the way everyone seemed to react that way when they heard his name. He hated it.

"What exactly are you doing, sharing a compartment with Weasley?" asked Draco, looking slightly sickened by the mere thought of such a thing.

"There was no where else to sit, and Ron's... not like the other's you told me about."

Draco had told Harry about the Weasley family, but Ron didn't seem to be like what Draco had described at all.

At that moment, Hermione came back into the compartment.

"Who are you?" she asked, looking at Draco.

"Draco Malfoy." he replied.

Anything that would have happened next was cut off do to the loud voice that filled the train, though it didn't seem to be coming from any particular place.

"We will be arriving at Hogsmeade Station in three minutes. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken up to the school later."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco formed a sort of silent truce, promising not to argue. Not tonight, at least. The train soon slowed and stopped and the students filled its corridors, exiting and meeting up with friends.

"Firs' Years! "Firs' Years o'er 'ere!" said a familiar voice loudly. It was obviously Hagrid; no one else had that horrible accent.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco, along with the rest of the First Years, followed Hagrid down a sloping path, several students nearly tripped, and soon they were standing at the edge of a lake. There were about ten small boats lined up on the shore.

"No 'ore 'hen four to a boa'!" said Hagrid.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco got a boat to themselves and soon they were going across the lake, around a corner and…

There were 'ooohhhh's' and 'aaahhhh's' as the boats rounded a corner and the First Years got there first look at there new school. It was really quite a sight, the enormous caste sitting on the edge of a cliff overlooking the black lake, the castles many windows lit with what were obviously flames from torches.

That, or the inside of the entire building was on fire.

The First Years all ducked as the boats passed under some low-hanging vines, and the boats came to a stop after drifting through a dark tunnel for a while.

They got out of the boats, following Hagrid as he walked through the tunnel, up a set of stairs carved from its rock floor, and came to a stop in front of a wooden door. Hagrid knocked upon it, and it was quickly answered by a sever-looking, slightly elderly woman.

"The Firs' Years, Professor McGonagall." said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid." said McGonagall, before leading the First Years through a few corridors, and coming to a stop in a room not far from the Great Hall... not that any of the First Years knew that.

McGonagall left after telling them to try and 'Make themselves look presentable', with a rather pointed look at Ron, who had a large amount of dirt on his nose.

"How do you think they Sort us? It didn't say anything about it in 'Hogwarts: A History." asked Harry.

"You read that book too?" asked Hermione excitedly, obviously prepared to go into a full discussion of it right then and there.

"My brothers, Fred and George, told me that we get Sorted based on how well we wrestle a troll." said Ron, looking a bit green and extremely frightened.

Upon hearing that, Hermione looked scared and horrified, clearly wishing she hadn't excepted her Hogwarts letter, while Harry and Draco looked disbelieving.

"I highly doubt they'd risk us dying just to Sort us." said Draco, rolling his eyes, though he sounded a bit unsure.

Before anyone could answer, McGonagall came back into the room.

"We're ready for you now."

0000HP0000

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco, and the rest of the First Years followed McGonagall out of the strange room and into the Great Hall. Harry heard Hermione whispering to Draco and Ron that the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside, and soon they came to a stop in a single-file at the front of the Hall, near a stool with a patched and frayed Hat on it.

Just as they were getting extremely confused, the Hat opened at the brim and began to sing.

_A/N: I can't remember the Song, so it's not in the story, sorry._

After the Hat finished singing Ron got a relieved look on his face and he muttered angrily, "I'll _kill_ Fred and George!"

McGonagall held up a long parchment and began to call out names.

"Abbott, Hannah."

"HUFFLEPUFF!" yelled the Hat a few moments later.

"Boot, Terry."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Brown, Lavender."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Crabbe, Vincent."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Finch-Fletchly, Justin."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Finnegan, Seamus."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

After several more First Years, McGonagall finally called,

"Granger, Hermione."

Hermione shakily walked up to the Hat, and it was placed on her head. There were moments of silence.

"RAVENCLAW!" shouted the Hat.

Hermione beamed as she walked over to the Ravenclaw table.

"Goyle, Gregory."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Longbottom, Neville."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

A few more students were called before,

"Malfoy, Draco."

"SLYTHERIN!" said the Hat immediately upon touching his head.

"Patil, Padma."

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Patil, Parvati."

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Parkinson, Pansy."

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Potter, Harry."

Harry walked up to the Sorting Hat, and as soon as it was on his head he heard a voice in his ear speaking.

"_Hmmmm…Well, this is interesting…… Plenty of courage, smart, a wish to learn more…power, oh goodness yes, but it's both dark and light. It's Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Gryffindor for you."_

'I just want to get out of my parents shadow, when Hagrid met me he spent nearly five minutes talking about how much I look like my dad, but I don't want to have anyone comparing me to my parents when they don't even know me. I don't want them to think I'm some sort of hero' thought Harry.

_"Well, those are wise words. You are certainly Ravenclaw material, but your hatred of the Muggles you have met, and your wish to prove yourself are Slytherin traits. __You will find out the Truth in a few years, but you might know sooner than that. The best place for you, Harry, is definitely……_

"...SLYTHERIN!"

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The Halloween Feast was about halfway through, and Harry was sitting at the Slytherin table beside Draco, thinking about everything that had happened since he had been sorted into Slytherin.

After about a week Ron, who was put in Gryffindor, had gotten over the fact that Harry was a Slytherin, and they had become good friends since then. Hermione was quite happy in Ravenclaw, and she was also one of Harry's closest friends.

He still wasn't at all happy to be at Hogwarts, but he had finally accepted the fact that no matter how much he wanted to, he could never go back to being just a Muggle.

The Wizarding World would never let there dear 'Boy-Who-Lived' go, and that thought made Harry so angry that he had already decided, after some thought, that if Voldemort ever rose again the world could stuff itself down a tiny hole and die, for all he cared.

For about two weeks now, he, Draco, Hermione, and Ron had suspected that Professor Quirell was after something secret, which was hidden in the third floor corridor, which they had accidentally discovered was being guarded by a giant Three-Headed-Dog named Fluffy.

He had finally given up and accepted the fact that no matter how much he wanted them to, Ron, Hermione, and Draco would never quit being his friends, but he still kept an amazing amount of secrets from them.

He didn't want the constant annoyance of having his friends prying into his business, and there was no way in hell that he would tell them anything of relative importance. But they were interesting to hang out with when he was bored.

Suddenly Harry was brought out of his thoughts as the Hall's doors were thrown open, and Quirell ran into the room, stopping just in front of Dumbledore and gasping out,

"T- Troll…i- in…t- t- th- the dungeons…th- thought y- you …ought t- to k- kn- know." before collapsing in an unconscious heap upon the floor.

There was silence for a full second, before there was an enormous clap of thunder and all the students began to scream, run around in circles, or knock each-other down as they rushed to the doors. Harry simply sat there, staring at them with a raised eyebrow, and wondering how on Earth they could be so stupid.

It only further proved his belief that most of the human population were sheer idiots.

"SILENCE!" yelled Dumbledore, "Prefects, lead your Houses back to the dormitories, Professor's come with me."

Harry looked at Draco, who had also remained at the table, and they simultaneously stood up, calmly following the Slytherin Prefects out of the Hall.

0000HP0000

"Wake-up, Harry!" said a voice he recognized as Draco's.

"We have to get down to the Great Hall right now, apparently someone didn't know about the troll and got killed by it, Dumbledore's gonna make some kind of speech." continued Draco.

That woke Harry up completely.

"A student got _killed_?" he asked, shocked. "Who was it?"

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_A/N: I've just commited a horrible crime. A cliffy in the first chapter! But I didn't want to go through the whole 'first day of classes, finding out about Fluffy' and all those things. I don't want to draw First Year out forever. _

_PLEASE REVIEW!_


	2. Chapter 2

Choices

Chapter Two

By: Nyra II

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and there is something seriously wrong with you if you think I'm her. _

_A/N: Just to let you know, I'll be 'speeding up' first year. It'll go a lot faster than the book. Some of my dear readers actually threatened to harm me if I killed Hermione. Especially one of my friends. I had no idea she could be so violent... And keep in mind that my Hermione Granger and J.K Rowling's Hermione Granger are going to be two different people. _

_Angst-filled chapter comin' up. It's long, too, so be happy. :) I know I am. Chapter 1 got 12 reviews! 12! I couldn't believe it! _

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Harry and Draco quickly got to the Great Hall, and they sat down at the Slytherin Table. Harry glanced over at the Gryffindor Tale. Part... well , _most,_ of him didn't care if something had happened to Ron or Hermione. A very, very small part actually cared, if only because they were interesting company. He wondered if they were alright. If they were, good. If not, too bad. He didn't really care either way.

When all of the students had filed into the Hall and taken their seats, Dumbledore stood up, looking pale and very grave, the normal twinkle in his blue eyes disappearing completely.

Harry wondered who had been stupid enough to let a Troll, of all things, into the castle. It couldn't have been a student. They wouldn't have been able to control it, it would have killed them quite quicklyHe glanced at the Professor's. It had to have been one of them... but who?

McGonagall appeared to be holding back tears, and failing rather miserably. Sprout was watching Dumbledore with wide, horror-filled eyes her normal fly-away hair more wild than ever before. Flitwick looked frightened and astonished. Snape appeared indifferent, though he was paler than normal, and Harry noticed that the Potions teacher's eyes kept sweeping up and down the Slytherin Table. So Dumbledore hadn't told the teachers the identity of the unfortunate student yet? How odd. Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, was openly crying, looking even more frightened than Flitwick.

Hagrid was looking more worried than frightened. He too kept looking up and down the Slytherin Table. Quirrel was paler and more twitchy than ever before, his eyes darting through the room, rather than looking at Dumbledore like everyone else. Harry frowned. He had had a bad feeling about Quirrel ever since their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. But the man was such a pathetic wimp...

_It could be an act,_ Harry realized, _He could be faking it, to get Dumbledore to trust him..._

He filed that interesting bit of information away. He'd have to tell the others about it later. He turned his attention back to the Headmaster. The Hall, which had been filled with worried mutterings, silenced immediately as Dumbledore stood, and took a long look throughout the room.

"As you may or may not know, you were called here because last night a student was killed by the troll, and another was injured. Eliza Trohns was in the fourth floor corridor, and did not know about the troll. It killed her as she was making her way downstairs to the Feast. She was a Third Year Hufflepuff student. We will honor her memory, and ensure that nothing like this ever happens again." said Dumbledore gravely.

It was then that, very suddenly, Harry noticed that instead of the usual House colors, the walls were covered in black drapes, and that the Hufflepuff table looked to be in an _extreme_ state of depression.

The students; well, the ones who cared about their friends only and hadn't given a crap about Eliza, anyway, looked relieved. Harry rolled his eyes. Obviously none of them had heard Dumbledore say 'and another was injured'.

_Some people are incredibly stupid..._

Dumbledore cleared his throat, regaining the attention of everyone in the room.

"Another student, as I said, was injured. First Year Hermione Granger was in the second floor bathroom, and was cornered by the Troll."

Harry looked quickly over at the Gryffindor Table, looked up and down it several times, and was still unable to spot Ron's red-orange hair. Was Hermione in the Hospital Wing? Was Ron with her? Why had no one told him?

"Miss Granger is now in the Hospital Wing," continued Dumbledore, confirming Harry's suspicions, "Classes for the rest of the week are canceled."

Most of the students looked rather cheerful as Dumbledore sat back down and breakfast food appeared on the Tables. Sure, they were more subdued than usual, and there was less happy chatter, but for the most part it appeared that nothing had changed for the people who hadn't known or cared about Hermione and Eliza. Not many of them cared about the Know-It-All First Year with the horrid hair, or the pretty Third Year Hufflepuff who had been almost as talented in Charms as Flitwick himself.

Harry shot them angry looks. How pathetic were they? A Dark creature had broken into the school, killed a student and injured another, and they didn't even care?! Well maybe if they were beaten to a bloody pulp they might not be so cheerful-

Draco speaking snapped him out of that furious though mid-sentence.

"- go see Granger?" he asked, "I know she's a Mudblood, but she _is_ pretty smart. It would probably be best to stay on her good side."

Harry nodded in agreement, though he wasn't entirely sure if that was how he would have put it.

"Yeah," he said, standing up, "Lets go."

0000HP0000

They made it up to the Hospital Wing quite quickly by using a few of the secret passages they had discovered, and were soon standing in front of the doors.

The doors were open, but Draco hesitated, obviously regretting making the suggestion that they visit Hermione. Harry sighed, rolled his eyes, and calmly walked inside.

The sparkling white, spotless walls hurt his eyes a bit, and he couldn't guess how anyone could stand to stay in the room for a moment, much less actually get healed... well, not without wearing sunglasses, at least.

Ron was sitting in a white, clearly uncomfortable chair, at the bedside of -

"Hermione?"

The bushy-haired girl nodded, smiling slightly, but clearly in a bit of pain. Ron looked up in surprise upon hearing his voice, and the two Slytherin's cautiously stepped a bit closer.

"What happened? Dumbledore said that the Troll -"

Hermione nodded again, shifting to sit up a bit straighter.

"I," her voice was slightly hoarse, "I was heading down to the Feast when- when that _awful_ Seamus Finnegan cornered me and..." her eyes were slightly bright with tears, "He said that I shouldn't be a Ravenclaw. That I didn't _deserve_ to be one. That if I was going to talk to 'filthy snakes' and be a 'useless, attention-seeking Know-It-All' then I should-" she looked to be holding back sobs, "Then I should just 'go back to the Muggles.' because 'at least _they_ could put up with me.'"

It was clear Finnegan's words had greatly affected her. Ron, who, judging by how murderous he suddenly looked, had not heard this before, and stood up.

"I'll _kill_ that -"

"Shut up," snapped Draco, interrupting him, "Can't you see she's not finished yet?"

Hermione sent him a slightly surprised, but thankful look, before continuing.

"So I ran into the bathroom, and cried for a really long time. I remember, when I finally stopped I thought I had missed the Feast. I was about to leave and go see if the Great Hall was empty, when- when-" her eyes had filled with tears again, "I thought I smelt something odd, and there was a strange noise in the hall. I looked out and... That _thing_, the Troll, it saw me, and- and... it came into the bathroom..." she paused and whispered, "I was so sure that I was going to die."

Ron, Draco, and Harry were all standing by her bedside now. Even the two Slytherin's looked a bit concerned.

"And then... I tried to hide. I went into a stall and locked it, and screamed for the Professor's... It destroyed the stall with it's club, and a piece of the wood from it hit my arm," she carefully showed them the arm, which was heavily bandaged and in a sling, "It broke a bone and made a pretty deep cut."

Harry frowned. He knew what it felt like to have a broken arm, and it wasn't fun. Poor Hermione. It was her right arm, too, so she wouldn't be able to do any schoolwork until it healed. She'd probably go mad by then.

"I crawled into another stall, and it smashed that one, too. I guess it thought it killed me, because it left. I was so scared that I stayed there, on the floor, for what seemed like forever..." she wiped her tears away with the end of her bed sheet, "I know now that it went up to the fourth floor and- and killed poor Eliza Trohns. The Professor's found me... I guess they'd heard the noises. I told them about the Troll, and McGonagall brought me here while the others went to look for it."

Ron looked horrified.

"That's awful, Hermione..." He turned to Harry and Draco, "How d'you think the Troll got in?"

Draco shrugged, looking completely stumped.

"It doesn't matter," said Harry, "It was Finnegan's fault Hermione got attacked in the first pace."

Ron nodded, looking angry at the thought.

"I still think we should murder the pathetic little -"

Draco cut him off again.

"We should torture him first, if we kill him." he said. At their surprised looks, he added, "Granger's smart, for a Mudblood. And I suppose she's not _too_ awful."

"We can't kill him," said Harry regretfully, "We'd get kicked out of the school before you could say 'revenge'."

Hermione had been listening in silence, but spoke up quietly, "I -" she looked unsure, but continued, "I don't think we should just let him get away with that, though. I- I want him to regret it." She looked slightly shocked by her own words, but also firm.

"Think of it this way," said Harry, smirking, "We have about seven more years at Hogwarts."

Ron, Hermione, and Draco all looked confused for a moment, before Draco nodded, also smirking.

"We have seven years to make Finnegan's life hell." he said.

Ron grinned. Hermione still looked hesitant, but nodded.

0000HP0000

The next Monday morning, classes resumed again. It was almost like nothing had happened.

Hermione was allowed out of the Hospital Wing just before breakfast that morning, and seemed to be almost completely over her traumatic experience. Her right arm was still in a sling, and according to Madame Pomfrey it would have to stay that way for three weeks. In the Muggle world it would have taken far longer to heal. Hermione was taking three potions a day, which were healing her arm the magical way. The sling and small cast were only there to keep the damage from getting worse than it already was.

"Mr. Potter, the Headmaster wishes to speak with you."

It was McGonagall's voice, and Harry could hear the irritation in it. The First Year Gryffindor's and Slytherin's were heading for the door of the classroom, as Transfiguration had just ended. Harry was easily able to cast all the spells McGonagall taught them, and his grades were rivaling Hermione's, but it was far from being his favorite class. McGonagall had never liked him much, and he suspected that it was because he was in Slytherin instead of being in her House. He remembered the completely shocked and slightly betrayed look on her face after he was Sorted. It had been quite clear that she, along with the rest of the Wizarding World, had fully expected him to be a Gryffindor.

Harry turned around, nodded to McGonagall to show that he had heard, said goodbye to Draco, Hermione, and Ron, and headed for the Headmaster's Office. He had been there once before with Ron, Hermione, and Draco because they had pulled a nasty prank on a Slytherin Sixth Year who had insulted Hermione about two weeks into the school year.

"Lemon Drop?" he guessed.

Thankfully it was still the password, and the gargoyle opened to reveal the spiral staircase up to the Headmaster's Office.

Why couldn't wizards and witches just use electricity, if they imitated it so much? It would make things so much easier... He snapped out of the annoyed thought when he got to the tall oak door, and the staircase stopped moving. He was about to knock on the door, when Dumbledore's voice called, "Enter."

Harry still didn't trust Dumbledore one bit, but he hid it well. He walked into the Office with a calm, polite smile in his otherwise emotionless face.

Dumbledore almost winced when he saw Harry. It wasn't that he didn't like Harry or anything, but Harry was like Tom Riddle in so many ways it was almost frightening.

But, the Headmaster did his best to ignore it.

"Harry, I called you here because I have been meaning to talk to you for some time about what life with your relatives is like." he said. They had had plenty of reasons to suspect that the Dursley's abused Harry, but none of it was confirmed.

"Fine, professor." lied Harry.

"Are you sure?" continued Dumbledore, leaning forward slightly, and looking rather like some dorks favorite Grandpa, "Because you are welcome to tell me anything."

Harry frowned slightly. It was clear to him that Dumbledore really wanted to know the answer to that question. But why? According to Hagrid, Dumbledore had been the one to leave him with his relatives and never once check on him. Somehow, that really didn't seem like a caring action to him, so he had no idea why the Headmaster would suddenly be so concerned. If he was so interested on life with the Dursley's, why had he never even tried to visit, in 11 years? Or sent a letter. Or called. Surely wizards couldn't be dumb enough not to know how to use phones?

"Everything is fine." Harry repeated, feeling annoyed at his own lack of answers.

Dumbledore nodded, seeming to accept that answer. For the moment.

"I was a very close friend of both Lily and James, Harry," he said, smiling that 'you-can-trust-me-with-anything' smile again.

Harry blinked, feeling confused. Who were Lily and James?

_Oh. My parents. Right. _

He suddenly felt angry. How _dare_ Dumbledore try and bribe him into giving up his secrets by talking about his parents?! That sick, twisted, manipulating son of a-

Instead of voicing that thought out loud, he smiled politely again.

"So?" he asked.

Dumbledore frowned.

"They were you're parents, Harry," he said, "I would greatly enjoy telling you about them some time. You must have so many questions -"

Harry dearly wished to get up, shout every foul word he knew (and growing up with Uncle Vernon, he knew quite lot) and storm out of the room. Instead he forced down his temper and kept smiling. Something told him not to look Dumbledore in the eyes. The Headmaster had to have put some sort of Trust Spell on his eyes or something. They invited everyone to spill all of their secrets, to trust him beyond all else, to tell him everything... Like if he met Dumbledore's eyes, the Headmaster could see into his mind, somehow...

"I'm going to be late for class, professor. Can I go?" Harry asked as politely as he could.

Dumbledore nodded, an odd look in his eyes. He had some serious thinking to do.

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Later that afternoon, Harry was sitting in the Library, reading a Second Year DADA book, when Hermione plopped into the chair across from him, careful not to jostle her broken arm as she did so. She was almost completely back to her normal self and perfectly cheerful. She seemed only a bit annoyed that she couldn't do any schoolwork. Harry, Ron, and Draco silently thought that she was trying to make up for her lack of coursework by reading the entire Hogwarts Library before Christmas. Over the last few days she spent every free moment she had in it, and even Harry was starting to get concerned.

"Ron told me that Draco told him that you had to go to the Headmaster's Office earlier. Did you do something that I don't know about?" asked Hermione, snapping him out of his thoughts and looking disapproving.

"No. I had to go because he wanted to know how life with my Aunt and Uncle is." replied Harry truthfully, reaching for a Defense Against the Dark Arts book from the pile of different books piled on the desk in front of him. He wondered if the spell on Dumbledore's eyes was Dark, but pushed the thought from his mind. Dumbledore was a _Light_ wizard. He wouldn't use Dark Magic.

Hermione looked interested.

"And how is life with them?" she asked, as casually as possible. Harry had never talked to them about his relatives, and she was very curious to find out why he always changed the subject when they were mentioned. She had a strange, bad feeling about them, but couldn't figure out why. They had raised Harry. They _had_ to be decent people. Dumbledore wouldn't have let him live with unfit guardians.

...Would he?

"Fine." said Harry shortly, not looking up from his book. He really didn't want to talk to her, to talk to_ anyone_, about the Dursley's.

"Then why would the Headmaster want to speak with you about it?" asked Hermione, a slightly bossy tone creeping into her voice as her I-Must-Know-All nature began to take over again.

"Because it's widely known, to him at least, that my relatives aren't particularly…_fond_…of magic. He was worried that they might do something to me, but they never have."

This time he met her eyes, and even though it was a _complete_ lie, he looked perfectly sincere. Hermione studied him for a moment, obviously trying to make sure that this was true, then she sighed.

"Alright, I believe you… Why are you reading a Second Year Defense book?" she asked, changing the subject. She silently promised herself that, some day, she would find out why he didn't like to talk about them. But for now, she wouldn't press him, as she got the feeling that it wouldn't make finding answers any easier. Most likely the opposite.

"Because I've read the First Year book so many times I could recite it word-for-word." he said, rolling his eyes.

Hermione nodded. "I know how you feel... do you think I could borrow that book when your finished?"

Harry smiled slightly.

"Sure." he said.

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Late that night, Harry woke up. He had had a nightmare about the blinding green light. Again.

It was horrible, but it had haunted his dreams for years now, and he knew that the nightmarish memories wouldn't stop any time soon.

He got up and went to sit in the common room, grabbing a Second Year Potions book as he went. The book turned out to be rather boring and didn't help get his mind off of his parent's fate at all, so he decided to go and explore Hogwarts instead.

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He had been wandering around for a while when he decided to sneak into the library. He had been wanting to get some books out, but the old, frail librarian, Madame Pince, kept looking at him oddly. As though she expected him to go on a killing spree at any moment. Every time he went into the library, she would stare at him, wide-eyed, as though seeing someone else entirely. He wasn't sure what her problem was. He hadn't wanted to check out any books for fear of her falling over dead from fear or something.

He was so lost in his thoughts, and the corridors were so dark, that he got extremely lost on his way to the library, and he was searching the unfamiliar corridors for any sign of what part of the castle he was in (heck, he'd be happy just to know what floor he was on) when a voice he instantly recognized spoke,

"Where are they, Mrs. Norris, where are they…" it was Filch, and he was getting closer.

_Talking to himself, I suppose, or talking to that damn cat!_ thought Harry. He looked around and saw a door not far away, and he dove through it a moment before he heard Filch come around the corner.

He could hear Filch walking through the corridor, footsteps echoing loudly. He froze, as the footsteps stopped, right outside of the room he was hiding in.

"Is someone here, Mrs Norris?" asked Filch.

After several moments of silence, there was a meow, and he heard Filch curse.

"Alright... we'll catch them, Mrs Norris, they were here..." As Filch's footsteps started again and began to fade away, Harry finally got a good look at the room he was hiding in.

It was obviously some sort of unused classroom, as it looked almost completely identical to the Charms, Transfiguration, and DADA rooms. It was filled with unused, dust-covered desks, and, oddly enough, there was an extremely large mirror up against one wall.

Harry slowly walked forward, reading the letters engraved in the top of the mirror.

"_Erised stra eh ru oy tub ecafru oy ton wohsi"_

It didn't make any sense, …but if you put it backwards...

"_I show not your face but your hearts desire"_

_Odd,_ he thought, stopping when he was right in front of the mirror and turning to face it.

In the mirror was himself, wearing expensive looking black robes. He looked rather like dark royalty.

As he watched, two people appeared. The people were both adults. The woman had long red hair and green eyes which were identical to Harry's own, and Harry resembled the man. They, too, were wearing black, expensive-looking clothes. After a few moments, he suddenly realized who they must be.

_Mum and Dad._ he thought.

He walked up to the mirror and placed his hand upon it's cold surface, and his mother did the same with her hand in the same spot his as own. For one joy-filled moment, he almost believed that he would feel her hand touching his, but the surface remained cold.

But he stayed there, face-to-face with his parents, for a long time. He snapped out of his daze when there was a loud noise a few corridors away, and he whispered, "I'll come back."

And he hurried out of the room.

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_A/N: REVIEW! If I get enough, I'll put the next chapter up early!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: HP is not mine. _

_A/N: Alright. Someone by the pen name of ShadowDragon92 has officially given me my first flame. According to ShadowDragon92, this isn't a Dark Harry story, and it's lame. Well, I had a really long, really pissed-off reply posted here, but I took it out. _

_Alright... on with the next chapter!_

Chapter Three: Hermione's Revenge

"I cannot believe this." muttered Hermione, shooting a highly annoyed glare at Ron.

"It's not my fault!" defended the redhead immediately, "Draco's the one who wanted to go exploring."

"Yes, but you are the one who wanted to go this way," added Harry, also annoyed, "If we'd gone left when we came to that intersection, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"Will you three quiet down?" hissed Draco, "You'll wake the whole bloody castle!"

Hermione, Harry, and Ron all shot him angry looks, but kept their mouths closed. For once, they all agreed.

The group had decided to do a bit of exploring after dinner. They snuck out of their dorms and met up in the Entrance Hall once everyone else had gone to bed, and had begun to travel through the hundreds of corridors, doing their best to memorize everything in sight.

It was almost impossible to keep track of where they were headed when there was no set destination, however, and each one of them had a different opinion on which direction they should explore next. Hermione wanted to go up to the next floor, Ron wanted to go right, Harry wanted to go left, Draco wanted to go downstairs...There seemed to be no end to the long, dark stone halls, and soon they were all thoroughly lost.

They had been wandering around for almost three hours, and Harry decided it was a miracle Filch hadn't heard one of their many arguments and come running. The one thing they really didn't need was a detention, as they had been doing their absolute best to avoid all possible attention from the teachers ever since the start of term.

"I think we're on the fourth floor," said Hermione, glancing out a nearby window. It was useless, however, do to the fact that it was now so dark outside that there was no way to see how far down the ground was. She absentmindedly rubbed her cast, which still guarded her injured arm. Madame Pomfrey said that it would have to stay for another five days.

Normally, the Nurse would have just used some Skele-Grow, and it would have been healed within around four hours, but a Sixth Year had managed to turn all the bones in his left arm and right leg to jelly in a Charms accident. The Hospital Wing's supply of Skele-Grow had been running low already, and the last of it was used to cure the Sixth Year. Hermione would have to wear the cast until Snape could brew more.

"Does this statue look familiar?" questioned a slightly confused Ron from a bit further down the corridor, pointing at a statue shaped like a one-eyed, humpbacked old witch.

"Duh, Weasel," said Draco, though there was no real heat in the 'insult', "We've most likely been here before. We've probably been going in circles this whole time."

"I think we're on the Third Floor." Harry said after a few moments.

"Whys that?" asked Hermione, who, as always, needed to know all the facts before making a decision.

"Have none of you noticed how dark, deserted and forbidden this place looks?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ron, Draco, and Hermione all blinked, holding their lit wands up higher and looking around with new eyes. The Lumos spell wasn't taught in classes until Third Year, but Harry had found it in a Library book and thought that it looked useful. The others agreed, and they snuck into empty classrooms at night to teach it to themselves, along with other, similar spells.

"You're right," agreed Draco after a moment, as they examined the thick inch of dust covering the floor, statue, and windowsill. For the first time they noticed that the torches lining the walls of this corridor were not lit, unlike most of the others throughout the castle. "We're in the forbidden corridor."

"But whys it forbidden?" asked Ron, "There's nothing dangerous..."

They all frowned, looking around again, more suspiciously. Dumbledore had said that anyone who entered would 'die a most painful death'. Was something hiding in the shadows, ready to attack them? Surely it would have killed them by now. They had been standing in the corridor arguing for ten minutes. Had the whole thing simply been done to scare the students, as some sort of prank? All four doubted it. So why...?

It was then that Harry noticed something. Something very important.

"...Do you hear that?" he asked, frowning.

Hermione frowned too, straining her ears. The sounds were faint, and almost impossible to hear. A slow shuffling...

"It sounds almost like..."

Draco's confused whisper was cut off, as their minds all came up with the conclusion at the same moment. Four pairs of eyes met each other, filling with dread.

"Footsteps!"

"We have to hide!" hissed Hermione, looking around desperately for any sort of escape. There was only one way in or out of the corridor. The other, they suspected was a dead end. They were trapped.

"There!" whispered Ron after a few horror-filled moments, pointing toward a tall black door at the end of the corridor, which they could just barely make out do to the darkness. Harry wasn't really surprised that they hadn't noticed the door before. In the dark, even with the light of their wands, they could just barely see each other, much less a black door forty feet away.

"Run!" exclaimed Draco, rushing toward it as silently as possible.

It was a good thing there was so much dust on the floor, because it muffled their footsteps as they dashed down the long hallway, hurtling toward the door.

Ron, being tallest and therefore having the longest legs, got to it first. He reached for the knob and tried it, then punched the door, cursing violently. It was a mark of how serious the situation was that Hermione didn't even glare at him for using such foul language.

"It's locked!"

The footsteps had grown closer. They were short and shuffling, and Harry instantly knew that they belonged to Filch. The caretaker was always talking about how he wanted to punish students with whips and chain them up in his office... Of course, Dumbledore would never allow such a thing, but who said Filch would tell Dumbledore about it?

"Move!" he hissed, pointing his wand at the door. Ron leapt out of the way, just as Harry cast the spell, "Alohamora!"

His Unlocking Charm was stronger than average, and instead of simply unlocking the lock, it blew the door open. Thankfully, it didn't make any noise, and they all rushed inside, slamming it behind them and gasping for breath.

"'Alohamora'?" repeated Ron, slightly paler than usual but otherwise seeming perfectly fine, "Where'd you learn that one?"

The other three members of the group had become quite accustomed to Harry knowing spells that they didn't. Those spells usually were only revealed in class, when the Professor's would start to teach a lesson, only to have Harry already know how to do the spell perfectly. But his three friends had still not figured out how he found the time to get books from the Library and learn them all.

"The Standard Book of Spells, chapter seven." muttered Harry.

"Oh," nodded Ron, who had never heard of The Standard Book of Spells, much less which chapter mentioned what.

"That..." gasped Draco, starting to regain some composure and his usual sense of sarcasm, "Was far too close a call for my taste."

"I agree," said Hermione, still breathing harder than normal. She had never been one for sports, especially ones that involved running, so she was a bit out-of-shape in that category.

"Where are they, Mrs Norris... Where are they..."

All four First Years froze, as they heard Filch's voice float through the crack under the door. Not far away, a cat meowed.

Hermione's eyes widened in panic, while Harry, Draco, and Ron began backing away from the door slowly, hands in the air, as though Filch might sense that they were nearby. The four all winced when Filch's footsteps came even closer.

"We're done for!" Ron mouthed, with as much panic as one could possibly put into a silence sentence, "Filch will probably get us expelled!"

None of the others bothered to reply, too caught up in despair and fear. Would they be expelled? Would Filch get to live out his torture fantasies on them? Would the Headmaster go into Filch's office one day in the future and find their tortured, battered bodies?

"We've lost them, Mrs Norris," continued Filch after a few moments of silence, frustration and anger in his voice, along with no small amount of crazed obsession, "But we'll get them, Mrs Norris, yes, yes we will... we'll get them... And when we do..."

Hermione let out a small sigh of relief as Filch's voice faded into the distance, his footsteps also growing fainter as he turned around and headed back up the corridor.

"We are never doing this again." she said firmly, leaning against the wall for support. That had simply been more drama than she could take.

"I fully agree," said Draco. Ron paused for a moment, then nodded as well. They all turned to Harry for his opinion, and frowned.

Harry was staring at something behind them, green eyes wide.

"I recommend you start backing away slowly," he suggested shakily, reaching around in the dark for the doorknob and finding it after a few moments.

"Wha -"

Ron, Hermione, and Draco turned to see what he was staring at. Ron immediately slapped a hand over Hermione's mouth as she opened it to let out a scream, upon seeing exactly what they were sharing the room with.

A giant, three-headed dog, so tall that it's head brushed the fifteen-foot ceiling, was staring at them with three sets of large, hunger-filled eyes. It's mouths were open, three-foot long fangs, which appeared to be as sharp as swords, dripping pools of greenish drool onto the stone floor.

"Oh. My. Sweet. Merlin." stated Draco in shock, before he turned and fled for the door, which Harry had opened.

Ron and Hermione snapped out of their horrified dazes and ran after them. The dog let out a chilling growl and practically flew across the room, but they made it through the doorway just in time. One more second, and they would have been dog kibble.

Harry slammed the door behind them, casting a Locking Charm as fast as possible. Even with the Charm, they could still hear the dogs haunting barks.

Hermione was pale and shaking, looking ready to faint

"That- th- that..." she stuttered uncharacteristically.

"...Was one big bloody dog..." finished Ron in a strange, dazed kind of fearful wonder.

They all stood in the corridor for several silent moments, staring at the door with wide, unseeing eyes, until Harry finally snapped out of it.

"We should probably get back to our dorms," he said, causing them to blink as they were broken out of their thoughts.

"That's true," said Hermione, regaining some composure.

Ron nodded in agreement, still shaking slightly, and attempted a grin.

"Well, we've had our adventure for tonight, haven't we?"

"Hopefully, that'll be our last 'adventure' for a long time." said Draco, "I don't honestly wish to be torn to shreds and devoured by a three-headed-dog, thanks."

"Me neither," said Harry grimly, as they began to walk in the direction they guessed the Entrance Hall might be.

They were silent again for several minutes, and didn't even speak to argue over which halls to take. Each were lost in their thoughts, which mostly centered around the very painful fates they had just escaped. Either tortured by Filch, or mauled by a fifteen-foot-tall dog. What a choice.

Suddenly, Ron grinned again. A real, truly amused grin.

"Just think what would happen if we shove Finnegan in there with that monster!" he said, bursting into laughter and being forced to grab a nearby wall to hold himself upright.

Harry and Draco also laughed, trying to muffle the sounds in case Filch happened to be nearby, and even Hermione grinned widely at the thought.

"He'd be so scared he'd probably wet himself. That, or scream until it got annoyed and killed him just to get him to shut up." she sighed happily at the picture of her most hated enemy screaming like a girl.

They got their amusement under control after a few moments, and continued down the corridor, all still grinning.

"We could actually do it, you know," added Draco thoughtfully a few moments later.

"But that's completely barbaric!" protested Hermione instantly, her happy fantasies flying out of her mind as she remembered that such things could get a fellow student killed, "He could be killed, and it would be all our faults!"

"Not really," said Harry, shaking his head, "We could get him in a Freezing Charm so he couldn't scream and draw the Professor's attention -"

"-Then we shove him in there with the dog -" continued Draco.

"-And wait outside. Once he's been properly scared, we go in, grab him, and get out before the dog gets us." finished Harry, grinning at the thought.

"But how would we keep the dog from eating him?" asked a slightly confused Ron, who was already interested in the plan.

Hermione huffed in annoyance, clearly not approving of such an idea, but listened intently. There was an evil gleam in her eyes as she remembered that it was Finnegan's fault her arm was hurt in the first place. She could have been killed because of him. And the desire for revenge poured into her mind like poison.

"We could steal meat from the kitchen. Dogs like meat, right?" asked Ron, "We throw it in there, and while the dog's busy with the meat, we get Finnegan in and out. It'll never notice."

Hermione shook her head, bushy hair flying, "There's too much risk. Finnegan could be killed, we could be killed...And do you honestly think that if we lock him in a room with a three-headed-dog, he'll keep it a secret? He'd go straight to Dumbledore, and all four of us would be back at home before dawn!"

"Not if we tell him that we'll throw him in with the dog again if he tells anyone." suggested Harry.

Ron and Draco nodded in agreement, both grinning widely now. Hermione was still frowning, but she reluctantly nodded, a small, evil smile creeping onto her face.

"Alright." she said, "I' m in."

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They had all managed to get back into their dorms without any trouble, and all four of the group had spent what was left of the night lying on their backs, staring up at the canopy's of their beds.

Am I doing the right thing by getting such dangerous revenge on Finnegan? Hermione wondered, Surely I could just give him a few insults to pay him back... Maybe lock him in some abandoned classroom at night after curfew and set Filch in that direction...

She shook her head, tears starting to fill her eyes as she thought of how terribly, truly scared she'd been when she was attacked by the Troll. She'd been utterly sure she would die, all because she wasn't smart enough or strong enough to defend herself...

No, she thought forcefully, That wasn't my fault. It was all because of Finnegan...

But was revenge worth the risk of practically committing murder?

He'd deserve it if he died, she thought, with a very unexpected amount of rage, He nearly got me killed! I could have died because of him!

But murder? Hitting him with a spell that would leave him defenseless and just leaving him in there with that horrible dog, to possibly be killed? They wouldn't just let it kill him on purpose, of course, but accidents tended to happen...

No. No, we won't let it kill him. It'll be distracted by the meat, like Ron said. He'll just get the scare of his life, then we'll threaten him into silence and send him on his merry way back to his dorm.

She still felt uncertain.

Am I doing the right thing?

He'll be fine. We'll make sure of it. I'll make sure of it.

And then she smiled.

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The next day, which was, thankfully, a Saturday, meaning they had no classes to attend, the group spent almost all of their free time in a secret passage on the sixth floor. It was mostly just a hidden corridor, but as far as they knew, no one else could find it, so they used it for a 'secret planning room'. There they planned out their revenge in detail, and in all five different plans were made. One was the original plan, one covered what they would so it caught by a Professor, and the others were for various other, similar mistakes.

That night after dinner, Harry, Ron, Draco and Hermione snuck through the corridors, following Finnegan and his little followers as they made their way back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

When Finnegan fell slightly behind the others, all four smirked, raising their wands as an extra precaution, even though only two were needed. If Finnegan moved to continue down the hall, they would all hit him with various Freezing spells.

"Pertrificus Totalus!" whispered Harry.

The spell hit Finnegan dead on. He had no way, or time, to react before his legs and arms snapped to his sides, stiff as boards. He swayed dangerously for a moment, before tipping and beginning to fall face first toward the floor.

"Silencio!" Hermione whispered sharply, a moment before Finnegan's frozen form hit the floor. The Charm stopped what would have been a very loud thud, but it didn't do anything to break the fall. Finnegan's nose broke upon it's hard impact with the stone floor, and blood began to pour from it.

"Well," remarked Ron, as they stepped out of their hiding place behind a suit of armor to grab Finnegan, "That wasn't part of the plan, but I can't honestly say that I'm sorry."

Draco smirked, rolling Finnegan over with his foot.

"Hello, Mudblood," he greeted sarcastically. The Irish boy's eyes filled with fear.

"He can hear us?" asked Ron suddenly, surprised.

"Every word," confirmed Harry, "The Charm only makes it impossible for him to move. He can still see and hear us perfectly."

Ron studied Finnegan intensely for a few moments. They hadn't yet been taught Freezing Charm's in class, and it was his first time to see the effects of one.

"Weird." he finally muttered, taking a step back.

Hermione glanced nervously up and down the corridor. It was empty, aside from themselves, but they could still hear the slowly fading chatter of Seamus' followers, and anyone could come around the corner and see them.

"Can we hurry, please?" she asked.

"Nervous, Granger?" questioned Draco jokingly.

"A bit," Hermione replied rather stiffly. She was not used to admitting any weakness, do to her limited contact with fellow humans. At home she would simply spend all her time with her books, and at school she only talked to her fellow students when it was absolutely necessary.

"Mobilicorpus." said Harry, levitating Finnegan's frozen body into the air and guiding it down the hall with his wand. Ron followed, as did Hermione and Draco.

They headed for an unused classroom on the second floor, where they had planned to stay until everyone else was asleep.

Draco and Ron propped Finnegan up against the wall, glaring at him the whole time. His eyes, which were the only part of him that could move, were so fright-filled that it almost made them want to laugh. They continually darted toward the door, as though praying that someone would burst in and save him.

Hermione checked her watch.

"Alright. We still have half an hour before the coast is clear." she remarked.

"Then why don't we have some fun with our little friend...?" asked Draco, grinning in an evil way. Hermione wasn't exactly his friend, of course. More of an alley. But still, someone had insulted and nearly killed her. That someone was Finnegan, and he would pay. For it. No one hurt the allies of a Malfoy.

Hermione frowned sternly at them all for a moment, but slowly she nodded, her own smile coming to the surface.

"Nothing too drastic." she warned.

"We're not going to torture him," said Harry, rolling his eyes, "Just scare him so badly he'll be lucky if he doesn't have some sort of heart attack."

All three boys looked to Hermione, as it was her revenge, after all. "That's all right then." she finally nodded.

Ron had a decidedly dark gleam in his eyes, picturing all he different things they could do with the help of magic.

"What should we do first?" he asked.

"We could set a snake on him." suggested Draco. "He'd probably die of fright."

"Or spiders." added Hermione. "I've always liked spiders."

"Or both." said Harry, emerald eyes practically glowing at the idea.

Ron's eyes lit up, and he nodded in agreement. They turned to look at their captive, all four wearing the same evil smirk, and the same wide, I-Can't-Wait-To-Try-This eyes. By now, Finnegan had caught on to exactly what they were discussing, and he stared at them, horrified.

"What do you think, Mudblood?" Draco asked him, "Would you like it if we covered you in spiders and snakes?"

Finnegan's eyes darted back and forth, like one's head would if they were shaking it in a 'no' gesture. The group completely ignored it, instead staring at the rest of his face as though they didn't notice.

"No comment?" questioned Hermione, playing dumb for he first time in her life.

Finnegan's eyes began to move faster and harder as he got more and more desperate, but the other four First Years continued to act as though they couldn't see them.

"Then I suppose that means you agree, then?" Harry said, also pretending no to notice that their prisoner clearly didn't agree at all.

The other four 'kidnappers' nodded.

"You're right. I think he does. So..." Hermione raised her wand, and said an incantation.

Instantly, Finnegan was covered in all sorts of creepy-crawlies, not just spiders or snakes. He's eyes widened in panic once more as a four-inch long scorpion began crawling across his neck, while several tarantula's and dozens of other such creatures climbed all over him.

"Oops," said Hermione innocently, "Wrong spell."

Of course that was a lie.

"I think it looks rather good on him," commented Draco sarcastically.

Harry nodded, "He's finally found others of his own kind."

Ron burst out laughing, although he stayed well back from the creatures. He was terrified of spiders, but worms , small snakes, and scorpions weren't very high on his list of favorite pets either.

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Half an hour of fun later, Hermione checked her watch again.

"Alright." she said, "Time to go."

Harry Banished the creatures, and Finnegan's eyes widened in relief. He obviously thought that they were going to let him go back to his dorm. What an idiot.

"To the Third Floor we go." muttered Draco sarcastically.

Finnegan once again looked scared.

Harry rolled his eyes.

They made their way through the corridors and up the stairs to the Third Floor as silently as possible. Finnegan, trapped, floated along in the air behind them. It was clear he was trying to escape, but there was no hope that he would ever manage it on his own. To break out of a Freezing Charm, you had to be very magically powerful, with a strong will. They all agreed that Finnegan would never have either.

Hermione put on a mostly indifferent, slightly amused face, but inside, she was still having doubts.

Is this the right thing, to go even further? We covered him in horrific bugs for goodness sake! That should be enough revenge... But I want to keep going. Why do I want to keep going?

Harry, Ron, and Draco seemed completely sure that everything would go according to the plan.

Am I the only one having doubts about this? She asked herself, Maybe I'm just being too much of a worry-wart... My parents always told me to lighten up... Play a game... Have some fun... Pull a prank or two... Have a laugh... Is this what they meant?

It has to be...

They reached the Third Floor corridor without any problems, and lit their wands as they entered the familiar dark hallway. Finnegan looked as though, had he been able to move, he would have already run to his dorm screaming.

When they were not far from the door of the Dog-Room, as Ron called it, they stopped, and all stared threateningly into Finnegan's eyes.

"Now, Finnegan," began Draco, "We, in case you having realized it yet, are in the process of getting revenge on you for nearly causing the death of our... our friend, Hermione."

"We aren't going to kill you," added Harry, smirking at the panicked look in their prisoner's eyes, "But not because we don't want to. In fact, we'd love to. But we don't want to be expelled."

"So," picked-up Ron, "We're going to show you something. It's very dangerous, but just remember that we could do far worse to you with magic if you ever tell anyone about this. Is that clear?"

"And don't doubt that we won't come through with that," added Hermione, her eyes glaring at him so hard it was amazing that there wasn't a hole in his skull yet, "It wasn't a threat. It was a promise."

Finnegan's eyes moved up and down, clearly meaning 'yes'.

"Good." smirked Harry.

They levitated Finnegan toward the door to the Dog-Room.

"Is the meat in pace?" Draco asked quietly.

"I stole it from the Kitchens earlier." Ron said, walking over to the darkest corner of the corridor, and revealing a huge slab of lightly-cooked meat. It was at least two feet tall, and about one foot wide.

"Wow. That ought to keep it busy for a while." remarked Hermione, "I've never seen such a large piece of meat..."

Ron levitated the meat, and walked over to the door of the Dog-Room with it floating behind him.

"Ready?" he asked, grinning.

"Ready!" chorused Harry, Hermione, and Draco.

Ron threw open the door, and used his wand to throw the meat inside. Harry, Draco, and Hermione used their wands to float Finnegan in after it, once the dog was busy with the meat.

Ron slammed the door behind them, his grin getting wider.

"We leave him in there for," he checked his watch, "Ten seconds, like we planned. Just long enough for him to get a good scare, but not long enough for him to be eaten."

The others nodded, already preparing to open the door and levitate Finnegan out.

Then, something they had certainly never expected happened.

They heard footsteps, coming down the hall toward them.

Four pairs of eyes once again widened in panic and, completely forgetting about Finnegan, the First Years scrambled behind the One-Eyed witch statue, which was just large enough to hide them. Had they been any larger, they would have been seen for sure.

"Are you sure this is necessary, Dumbledore?" came McGonagall's voice.

"The wards I placed around the room have detected someone entering them, as I told you a few moments ago. This is the second night it has happened." replied the Headmaster, their footsteps growing closer and closer.

"You don't think...Do you think someone knows about the Sto-"

"I am sure of it, Minerva." interrupted Dumbledore, "And we must make sure we catch the person before they can get it."

Behind the statue, Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco shot each other confused looks, but they didn't dare say a word.

"And you were not able to catch this person last night?" asked McGonagall, as her shoes and the bottom of the Headmaster's robes became visible.

"No. I believe I arrived moments too late. Mr Filch said that he thought he had chased some students into the corridor, but he also said that he was unable to locate them."

"Could a student -"

Dumbledore again interrupted the Deputy Headmistress.

"No. None of the students would come up here, of that I am sure. They will listen to the warning I gave at the Feast. Either someone is entering the castle, or one of our teachers is trying to steal it."

McGonagall gasped.

"Alohamora." said Dumbledore, ignoring her. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco watched in silence as the door swung open. Then, Hermione went deathly pale.

"We forgot about Finnegan!" she hissed, panicking.

The boys also went pale, eyes going wide as they realized that Finnegan had been in there with the dog for nearly fifty seconds.

"D'you think -"

Ron was cut off when McGonagall gasped again, in horror this time, and Dumbledore's footsteps rushed into the Dog-Room.

"Oh my goodness..." whispered the Transfiguration Professor, "How...?"

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_A/N: Another cliffy. I'm sorry. And yeah, I know that was kind of a stupid revenge prank for them to pull. But, as smart as they are, they're only 11, and they didn't really think of what the consequences could be. And no, that doesn't mean that Finnegan is dead. He may still be alive. _

_REVIEW!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. _

_A/N: I know I kind of blew up in the last pre-chapter A/N, and I'm sorry. But I'm putting my all into this fic, and hearing someone call it lame really made me angry. I had never been flamed before, and it kind of scared me. Feel free to put constructive criticism in your reviews. I love hearing about things I can improve. I think I scared you all away. I'm really, really sorry. _

Chapter Four: Consequences

McGonagall's feet disappeared from their line of sight as she too rushed into the Dog Room.

A few seconds later they heard Dumbledore shout something, and there was a blinding flash of purple light. For a few moments there was deafening silence, before an enormous _Thud_ sounded, and the floor of the corridor seemed to shake slightly as something extremely heavy made contact with the floor.

"W-What was t-that?" Hermione turned to look at the others as she whispered, so quietly that the other three First Years could barely make out the words. She didn't dare speak any louder for fear that Dumbledore or McGonagall might hear.

Harry shook his head.

"I have no idea." he replied, just as quietly.

"We must get him to the hospital wing!" exclaimed McGonagall's frantic voice, causing them to whip their heads around to gaze again at what little they could see of the corridor just outside of the Dog Room door.

Dumbledore replied in a grave, quiet voice. So quiet that the four First Years in the hall couldn't make out the words.

"Do you think Finnegan's dead?" asked Ron, looking torn between hopeful and frightened at the thought.

Hermione looked panicked, and Draco frowned, thinking.

"If McGonagall wants to get him to the Hospital Wing, then he must still be alive." he whispered after a moment.

McGonagall and Dumbledore entered the corridor again, and the First Years fell silent, barely daring to breath. If they were caught in the forbidden corridor, the consequences would be _horrific._ There was no other word to describe it. But if they were caught in the forbidden corridor, just outside of a room where a defenseless fellow student was attacked by a giant dog, the consequences would be even worse, and none of them wanted to think about what the Headmaster might do to them.

Harry peeked out from one side of the statue, and caught a half-second glimpse of a floating stretcher with white sheets. A pale arm hung over the edge on the side closest to him.

A pale arm _covered_ in deep crimson blood.

As Harry hid behind the statue again, Dumbledore suddenly stopped mid-step, and turned his head to stare across the corridor at their statue, frowning deeply. The desperate First Years did everything they could to make themselves as small as possible, hoping that they couldn't be seen.

After what felt like an hour, Dumbledore shook his head slightly and continued walking quickly down the corridor after McGonagall. His footsteps soon faded into the distance, heading for the first floor and the Hospital Wing.

"That was close." muttered Ron, letting out the breath he hadn't really noticed he was holding.

"Too close." agreed Harry, as they began to cautiously get out from behind the statue, all completely covered in dust. Hermione let out a rather violent sneeze, and Ron began to cough slightly. All four pulled out their wands and pointed them at themselves.

"_Scourgify." _they said together, casting another of the many spells they had learned in secret.

The dust and dirt vanished, leaving them and their clothes clean again.

Hermione bit her lip, worry filling her eyes.

"Do you think Finnegan will be alright?" she asked.

Harry frowned, but decided not to mention the large amount of blood he had seen. It wouldn't do any good to make her even more worried than she already was, and he knew she'd go completely mad if she found out that there was a large chance Finnegan had been severely injured.

Ron snorted, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Who bloody cares?" the redhead asked, "What we should be worrying about is whether or not he'll get a chance to tell the Professor's what we did."

They stood in the corridor for several moments, silently thinking over the question. _Would_ Finnegan get a chance to tell on them? And if he did, would he actually tell, or had their threats worked? None of them wanted to be expelled, but they knew that was exactly what would happen if Dumbledore ever found out what they had done. They would be expelled from Hogwarts and most likely thrown into Azkaban for attempted murder.

"We should get back to our dorms," said Draco, breaking the silence, "In case Dumbledore sends the Heads of Houses to check on the students and make sure no one else is out of bed."

The others nodded in agreement, and they left the forbidden corridor.

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The next morning, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco spent most of breakfast trading uncertain glances with each other across the Hall. None of them had any idea of whether Finnegan was still alive or not, and it scared them all slightly. They weren't fearing that he would die; they hardly cared about his life. What they worried about was the state of their own lives.

If Finnegan was still alive, had he told? And if he had, why hadn't they been called to the Headmaster's Office yet?

Finally, as breakfast was about to end, Dumbledore stood up, and the cheerful chatter that had filled the Hall instantly quieted. Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Ron all leaned forward slightly, giving the Headmaster their undivided attention as he began to speak.

"As I am sure you all remember, at the welcoming Feast you were warned to stay away from the Third Floor corridor," said Dumbledore, his tone an odd mixture of sternness and sorrow, "Last night, one of our First Year students chose to ignore that warning."

Whispers broke out among the students, and many craned their necks to look at each House table, trying to spot anyone missing or extremely guilty-looking.

"Quiet, please!" exclaimed Dumbledore, and the students all clamped their mouths shut, "Thank you. Seamus Finnegan is now in the Hospital Wing. Last night Professor McGonagall and myself found him in the Third Floor corridor. He was gravely injured, and Madame Pomfrey is doing all she can to help him heal."

Many students turned to look at the Gryffindor Table, eying Seamus' followers, but snapped their attention back onto the Headmaster in surprise when they heard his next words.

"We have reason to believe that Mr Finnegan was not in the corridor voluntarily, however. He had been hit with a Petrification Charm and was unable to escape or fight back when he was attacked. We do not yet know who cast the Charm, but if you have any information please come speak with me or your Head of House."

With that, Dumbledore sat down again, and the chatter of the Great Hall returned, even louder than usual. Everyone had a theory on what had attacked Finnegan and who had cast the Freezing Charm, and they were all quite happy to share their ideas.

The only silent students in the Hall were Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco. They kept their faces looking worried and suspicious, but inside they were all filled with relief. Finnegan hadn't told. They wouldn't be expelled.

Soon breakfast was over, and the students, all still caught up in gossiping about Finnegan's fate, left the Hall, heading to various classes.

Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco met up in the corridor. The Ravenclaw First Years had Herbology with the Hufflepuff's, and the Gryffindor's had Potions with the Slytherin's. Still, they had a full five minutes to get to their classes, and quickly spoke to each other in quiet tones, making sure no other students would accidentally, or not-so-accidentally, overhear.

"I can't believe Finnegan actually kept quiet." said Hermione, an odd mixture of relief and worry crossing her face.

"He could still tell, though," said Ron, "He could have been too injured to talk, but if Pomfrey heals him..."

"We'll just have to hope our threats worked. There's no other way to keep him from telling, short of killing him. And I don't really want to commit murder quite yet." said Harry, in a half-sarcastic tone, which left the others wondering if he actually meant it or not.

The others nodded in agreement, and the group parted. Even as they walked to their classes, their minds remained on Finnegan.

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"Hermione, this is madness!" hissed Ron, shocked. They were gathered in a deserted corridor on the second floor, discussing their 'situation' in quiet tones.

"I know," sighed the bushy haired girl, "But I have to see..."

"We'll be caught for sure!" exclaimed Draco, glaring at her.

"But what if Finnegan is _dying?_ It's all our fault." stated Hermione, wide-eyed, "We have to at least check... I have to know."

"Hermione," began Harry seriously, "There is absolutely no reason for us to sneak into the Hospital Wing at three in the morning, just to check on that little weirdo. He nearly got you killed...or have you forgotten?"

"No," Hermione shook her head, "Of course not. But _we_ are the ones who will be responsible if he dies. I just need to know."

"Dumbledore will tell us if Finnegan dies." said Draco, "Even if we go in there, and see him covered in blood, there still won't be a thing we can do about it."

"_Please._ You have to help me! Don't you feel the least bit guilty!? We may have just committed _murder, _for heavens sake!" cried Hermione, growing desperate.

"The twit deserved it," said Ron remorselessly. Harry and Draco both nodded in agreement, uncaring.

"_He _nearly committed unintentional murder, so it's actually rather fitting that he dies from it. Its the same thing." said Harry.

"But its _not_ the same! _He_ just said a few stupid insults, it was my own fault that I went into that bathroom. _We_ left him defenseless and helpless!" Hermione exclaimed. It was clear that she wasn't going to give up any time soon.

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Fine," muttered Ron faintly, frowning.

Draco snorted. "You'll be caught and expelled for sure," he said with a sigh, "But I suppose I have no choice but to help you."

Hermione beamed.

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"I still think this is ridiculous." said Harry, as they once again snuck through the corridors after curfew. Ron and Draco both clearly agreed with his statement, and Hermione shot an evil glare at all three of them.

"Just because _you_ are completely heartless, doesn't mean we all are." she said, continuing to lead the group down the hall of the first floor and toward the Hospital Wing.

"If Finnegan's alive," began Draco quietly to Ron and Harry, falling slightly behind so Hermione wouldn't overhear, "Do you think we'll have to threaten him again?"

Ron's eyes widened at the idea, but Harry shook his head, frowning.

"I doubt it," he said, "I think Finnegan was hurt pretty badly by that dog. If he knows that we could do that again, or something even worse, he won't dare say a word about it to the teachers."

"Darn." muttered Ron unhappily.

They soon made it to the doors of the Hospital Wing, and Harry quickly cast a silencing charm on them, before Hermione pushed them open. Otherwise, they would have made quite a bit of noise, and woken Madame Pomfrey. The last thing they needed was to get caught sneaking into the Hospital Wing at three am to 'check on' a patient who was believed to be the victim of attempted murder.

They crept into the dark room, looking at the beds.

"Where is he?" whispered Hermione, growing fearful when she couldn't spot Finnegan.

"Who cares?" asked Harry, as though she was crazy. Hermione glared at him again, but didn't say anything for fear of waking someone up.

"Can we please get out of here?" Ron whispered, looking slightly nervous.

"We have to find Finnegan." Hermione insisted.

Draco rolled his silver eyes, "_Lumos." _

The tip of his wand lit up with faint light, and he began looking down the longs rows of beds at either side of the room, looking rather bored by the whole situation. Hermione shot him an angry look for his use of the Charm.

"If you wake Madame Pomfrey with that light..."

"Found him." Draco interrupted, reaching the end of one row and looking slightly grim. Hermione immediately rushed toward him, a worried glint returning to her eyes. Harry and Ron followed, both a bit annoyed.

Hermione skidded to a stop with a sharp gasp as she neared Finnegan's bed. Her eyes widened in shock and horror, and Harry almost felt bad for her. _Almost_ being the key word there. Either she could deal with it, or she couldn't. And if she couldn't, it was her own fault.

Draco stared down at Finnegan's battered form with emotionless eyes. Ron looked slightly ill, but not one bit guilty. Harry simply raised an eyebrow, as tears filled Hermione's eyes.

"Oh my..." a shaking hand came up and covered her mouth, "What have we done!"

"Nothing more than he deserved." stated Harry firmly, getting tired of hearing her guilt repeatedly.

"But..."

Finnegan was wrapped in bandages. His right arm, right side, and right leg seemed to have the most. There were smaller ones on his face, and various bits of them throughout his body were slightly red with deep red blood. He appeared to have been put in an Enchanted Sleep in order to heal without feeling the extent of the pain from his many injuries.

He was quite pale, as pale as the stark-white sheets he lay upon. Not in the 'never-seen-sunlight-in-my-life' way. No, this was far more of a 'pale-as-death' shade, with a slight tint of gray to it that made him actually look quite dead. He really didn't look good, sandy hair in matted clumps, some of which, Harry noticed, still had blood in them.

It was truly a terrible sight.

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The next day, it seemed that the teachers were more alert than ever, searching their classrooms for misbehaving students. Talking in class was therefore not an option, both because none of the group wanted detentions and they would not, _could_ not risk one of the Professors overhearing and reporting them to the Headmaster.

The four First Years were lost in their thoughts all day, running through all the different possibilities they could think up. Had Finnegan been healed? Would he tell on them? Would he keep quiet, but fear them for the rest of his life? Would they have to go through their next seven years at Hogwarts, and even afterward, worrying that he would turn them over to Dumbledore and the Ministry? _Would _he use this as blackmail some day?

The next night at dinner, all four picked at their food half-heartedly, repeatedly glancing up at the Staff Table to see if Dumbledore would make another announcement on Finnegan's condition. The Headmaster looked tired and troubled, as did most of the staff.

Finally, Dumbledore stood.

Everyone in the Hall fell silent, turning curious eyes on their Headmaster.

"I have sad news," he began, "For the second time this year, we have lost a student. Young Seamus Finnegan died in the early hours of this morning. Madame Pomfrey did all she was able, but Mr Finnegan's injuries were extensive. He had been placed in an Enchanted Sleep and did not suffer."

Harry glanced at the Gryffindor table. Finnegan's followers were not present, most likely they were in their dorms. He looked a bit further up the table to where Ron was sitting, and saw that the redhead had a grimly firm look upon his face. No guilt, no remorse...

It was the same with Draco, though in a slightly more emotionless way. Silver eyes stared up at the Headmaster, not betraying any involvement in Finnegan's demise.

Harry looked over toward Hermione, and saw, to his surprise, that she looked nothing but shocked. Not sad, not hurt, not even guilty. Just purely shocked.

But what would she do once the shock wore off...?

Dumbledore cleared his throat, regaining the Hall's attention.

"Also," he began once they were all silent, "The Ministry, upon finding out that Mr Finnegan had been attacked and killed, possibly by his own fellow students, felt the need to start a full investigation on the subject. Ministry officials and Aurors will be arriving at the school in three days to begin interviewing students and staff members. I advise you to tell them nothing but the truth, so that we may know who Mr Finnegan's murderer is, and that person can be brought to justice."

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco traded slightly fearful glances with each other at that.

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"_I never should have done it." stated Hermione in a hollow tone, looking up at the three Aurors gathered around her, "I didn't mean to kill him. It was just... just for revenge... It was all a big mistake..." She broke into sobs, unable to hold them back any longer. _

"_Miss Granger," began the Head Auror sadly, "You have admitted to the murder of a fellow student. That is a very serious crime."_

_He leaned down so that his eyes met hers, "But I don't think you did it all on your own."_

_Hermione stared at him, her sobs momentarily quieting. _I won't betray my friends,_ went through her mind, _Never.

_The Head Auror continued talking in a low, soothing, highly convincing tone, "Someone gave you the idea; you didn't want to do it, but they insisted... Maybe the person reminded you of how he had hurt you, made you think that you deserved to get revenge on Mr Finnegan. This person, or these people, kept convincing you, every time your mind told you that that what they were saying was wrong..."_

"_No!" exclaimed Hermione, "I- It was just me! I did it alone!" A murderer and a liar she may have been, but she would _not_ allow 'traitor' to be added with the title. _

"_Miss Granger... Hermione... murder is a very serious crime. You are facing anything between five years to life in Azkaban prison. But... if you tell us the names of the people who made you do this, the ones who forced you into it, I'll make you a little deal. You tell us, and you get nothing more than one month in Azkaban and a small fine." _

_The look in his eyes was so sincere, and the offer was so tempting... But she would never betray them. _

"_I did it all alone." she repeated firmly, "No one else was involved." _

_The Auror didn't break eye contact, "Are you completely sure of that?" he asked, "You can tell us anything." _

_Hermione sucked in a long breath, releasing it in a sigh, "Yes." she said, "I am."_

_The Aurors glanced at each other, as though deciding on what to do next. The Head Auror gave her one last long look, then turned to face his companions. _

"_Bind her. Get the Veritaserum." _

_Hermione's eyes widened in panic, but she didn't have time to move before ropes bound her tightly to the chair she had been sitting on. One of the Aurors pulled out a vile of clear, water-like liquid. She handed it to the Head Auror, who uncorked the vile and held it over Hermione's mouth. _

"_You can drink it voluntarily, or we can force you. It's your choice." he said. His gentle tone and convincing lies were gone. _

_Hermione's eyes hardened, glaring at him and the other Ministry officials. She didn't say a word. _

"_Fine." said the Head Auror shortly. He used some sort of spell on her, and her mouth bean to open, against her will. He quickly poured the Truth Potion down her throat. _

"_Are you Hermione Jane Granger?" he asked. _

_Again, her mouth opened against her will. "Yes." came out in an emotionless tone. _

"_Did you assist in the murder of one 'Seamus Finnegan'?"_

"_Yes." _

"_Were you assisted by any one else?"_

Don't say anything! Don't say a word! Please...

"_Y-Yes." _

_She fought the potion with all her might, but it didn't seem to be helping at all. _

"_Who?"_

NO!

"_R-Ron Weasley..."_ Shut up while you still can! _Hermione screamed mentally, _Don't say anything more, you're already a traitor... Don't drag yourself down even deeper... Fight the potion... Fight it!

"_...Draco M-Malfoy..."_

DON"T say anything more! _Her mind continued fighting, desperately trying to stop her mouth from answering the question. But she knew it would do no good. _

"_..And... Harry Potter..."_

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Hermione's head shot up off her desk with a gasp, causing the entire Charms class to turn their heads and stare at her. Professor Flitwick gave her a disapproving look, before returning to grading the large pile of papers upon his desk.

"Something wrong?" whispered Harry, who was her partner for the class project they had been working on before she fell asleep.

"N-No... nothing." she replied, slightly paler than normal.

Harry frowned. Hermione had been acting oddly all morning, and it was clear she hadn't slept the night before.

"Whatever." he muttered, rolling his eyes. If she wouldn't tell, he didn't care.

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_A/N: Yes, I realize that this has been focusing on Hermione quite a bit lately, but that WILL stop soon, I swear. I just keep feeling like I can't turn her dark without reason, so I'm trying to explain it... But the main character always will be Harry. _

_Yeah, I played around with the summery a bit, too. _

_Next chapter: the Aurors arrive, and give some interrogations... will Hermione crack like she did in her dream? Will the Aurors actually use Veritaserum? Will Harry, Ron, Draco, and Mione get thrown out of Hogwarts on their backsides? _

_Please review!_


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